


Shattered origin

by DarthKrande



Series: Shattered [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1646294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthKrande/pseuds/DarthKrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the origin story of Megatron - in the Shattered Glass verse. Where everything is the upside-down version of what we know, Bots are evil, Cons are good. It is mostly mirror-G1. Does not follow official Shattered Glass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sparked slaves are sold at higher price

**Author's Note:**

> Humbly shattering the glass behind not only G1 and specifically the IDW continuity, but also behind Lady Dragon 2’s fanfic „Down a notch (or eight)”

„Vector Sigma, give spark to these mechanisms we brought to you. Fill them with life, let us give their existance a meaning. Make them strong, fit for whatever task they would be given. Complete our efforts, show the true worth of our creations.”  
Five newly made drones had been sparked that orn, five slaves for the Autobot lords of Cybertron. The creators could be satisfied; now it was only the sellers’ task to make money from the product.Well-built slaves had been sought all over the metallic planet: with sparks, even the mistakenly programmed goods could be sold for a good price.  
Yet one of the five sparklings remained in the store for eight long orns. He was massive, sturdy, his mental capacity high above the average. He could have been good for any job, but he was considered to be too expensive for the customers who already knew that they were looking for. The sparkling just waited there, patiently, looking forward to the time he would be of some use. Until then, he stood there and watched.  
He witnessed the other robots being taken out from their places, he saw the Autobots coming for them, asking about their past, their abilities. Some older ones in the building had quite long histories, and he often asked about details of their lives before. What was it like to be somewhere else? What was their job? What were their masters like? Do they think it would be better this time?  
Sometimes, when the others grew tired of him, he would just sit by the wall, staring at his unpainted arms and his insignia shining in the dim light. He already knew that each task required different paintwork, pattern or camouflage, and his natural metallic appearance showed he would be universal. But what for? Cheaper mechs had usually been sold in an orn or two. The expensive ones had been sold even faster, usually. They were the most skilled, most experienced ones, some of them had been booked in advance. Only he was too costy to be bought soon. The other slaves in store told him he should be happy with this: it was much better waiting in here than being a slave of the Autobots.   
Sometimes he would stand up and walk to the purple line in the floor that was not to be crossed without permission. He stood as close to it as he could, trying to get a glimpse of the other room and the mechs stationed in there.   
He knew that was the prison area, built originally for the wrongly programmed, disobedient ones. He was told that there were mostly Autobots in the room, sentenced to serve their faction-mates after having committed something even they considered guilty and unjust. Surprisingly, the convicts were also sold rather fast.   
The mechling just stood there, waiting, watching the others being sold. He could see the Autobots crossing the room, talking to the dealer, sometimes even asking the eight Constructicons about a creation of theirs. But no-bot ever asked about him.... they wouldn’t invest a fortune into an untested mech when there was cheap labour force at hand.   
On the other hand, he was almost proud of his price. He heard too many stories in his first eight orns about how the purple-symboled Autobots treated their own property, using and abusing them, making them work within an inch of their lives, and occasionally being brutal to them just for fun. But what if not all masters were like that? He was confident that once given a task, he would carry it out properly and give no reason to be punished or mistreated any other way. He would do anything to please his master.... but he was warned not to have too much hope, that Autobots were most pleased with seeing them suffer. At this point he refused to believe them.   
He watched as the others were chosen, told to cross the purple line he was not yet allowed to cross, taken to the end of the corridor for imprinting. He wondered if imprinting might be a bad thing. It was the process when the master’s personal data, energy signature, voice and other technical readouts were fixed in the slave’s programming, so that the mech would always know whose command he was to follow. It didn’t sound that bad, although he was informed that the instant sensation of a master would well overload all his systems, leaving him incomplete, dependent, his mental functions narrowed down to carrying out the wishes of his owner.   
But wasn’t that what slaves were for? Wasn’t that the reason he was created? Isn’t that why he was here, waiting for his future master to come?  
The dealer was talking to a slim blue customer who was interested in two slaves and couldn’t decide whether to buy the black one or the white one when they were otherwise almost totally identical.   
„TheyarebothfastI needthefastest Ineedtoknowwhichoneisfaster Ineedyourhelptodecide.”  
The dealer frowned, his large purple optics fixed on the fast-talking customer. Then, he called both battlechargers out of the storage area, and told them to prepare for a run as if they were racing for their lives. The silver mechling couldn’t hear the rest of the instructions, since the dealer walked away with the customer to see which would arrive at the finish line first.   
He was alone for now, with only a few newly purchased slaves sitting in the far corner of the room. They were covered in dirt and smeared with oil all over their structures. Some of their panels were bent, and wires could be seen from the outside. A medical drone was set to do the most needed repairs. The sparkling asked what had happened to them, but the only answer he got was „He finally decided to get rid of us”. He frowned at their tone. A slave should never be happy over being sold!  
He almost didn’t notice the voices coming from the prison room.   
„Imp, is that you still lingering here?”  
„Where else do you think I would be?” He knew this second voice, he heard the mech cursing several times, over several things.   
„You are a professional, skilled miner, I thought you would be digging deep by now. What are you doing so close to the surface?”  
„I’m spending my time, and wasting yours. Didn’t you realise?”  
„I thought you would finally put your talents to some use. Like, doing something useful, Impactor, do you even know what I’m talking about?”  
„Stop talking like that. If the energy bars weren’t here I would rip your spark out and....”  
„Quit daydreaming.”  
The newcomer’s footsteps could be heard as he walked away from the prisoner, and as he crossed the security doors of the room, his optics met the red glance of the unpainted sparkling.  
What did he see then? Was it unbroken spirit, not yet crashed hope? Courage and self-assurance? Willingness to face whatever obstacle he would come across, ever?  
„Whoa” he gasped. Then he stepped back, giving the silvery mech a long look.   
Before he could have said anything, the dealer returned with the blue customer and the battlechargers, the later duo exhausted and overheated after the test running.   
„ItellyouIonlyintendtobuyone I’mnotgoingtobuybothofthem whycantyouunderstandme?”  
„Please sir, I only tell you it would be a real bargain to....”  
„Iwilltakethewhiteonethen hewasfasterbyalmosttwonanoclicks onthelongrun itwouldmakepreciousbreems.”  
The dealer sighed. So be it, he thought. Selling one battlecharger would be still better business than having to keep them both. He signaled for Runamuck to come with them while Runabout was obligated to go back behind the uncrossable purple line. The white slave showed no emotion, but the black one fell to his thin metallic knees.  
„Please, sir, I beg you to take me with my brother. For all these vorns we’ve been serving together, and our former master never said he would’ve been unsatisfied with us.”  
The sparkling stared in confusion. Until now, Runabout had always told him he was better off without a master! Yet now he was pleading with this blue Autobot to take him.  
„Itoldyouseveraltimes Ionlyneedone IrunasmallcouriercompanyIdon’tneedmoreworkers!”  
„Sir, just give me a chance, sir, allow me to proove....”  
„Why were you both sold?” the newcomer mech asked. The black Battlecharger turned to him.   
„Sir, he lost us in a gamble, as far as I know, sir. I don’t know the details, sir, we weren’t allowed to pry.”  
The dealer knew it’d be his turn again.  
„According to what he said, he was very satisfied with both of them and told me I undervalued them due to their appearances.”  
„Idon’tcareIwanttogetgoing.”  
„Sir, please....” the black robot begged.   
„Shut up!”  
The battlecharger silenced, but remained kneeling right behind the purple line, as he watched his white brother being marched away.  
The other mech remained silent until the dealer was back. He was simply looking at the black and the unpainted robots, examining the later with unspoken curiosity.   
„I will take these two” he said in a calm, confident manner, that might have been the surface trying to hide his excitement. „Though I have to admit you overpriced the silver one.”  
The large purple optics shone up. „He is a one-of-a-kind mech, sir, in just a few cycles you will see he’s much more than meets the eye.”  
„I know that already. Oh, yes, and before I forget why I came in the first place, is there still no interest in Impactor?”  
The glittering purple optics went dim immediately. „Not even I dare call him a bargain, sir. Despite his unquestionable abilities, his perfect stamina....”  
The customer frowned, considering he might be nominating himself for the fool of the decade. „How much would he cost?”  
„If you take the sparkling and the battlecharger I would give him gratis.”  
„Which would altogether be....?”  
„Thirty thousand shanix, sir. Just a few cycles in your mines and the sparkling only would worth more than that.”  
„Let’s keep to the present. He is an unexperienced youngling and the battlechargers are known for their chaotic personalities, and you expect me to pay thirty thousand for them?”  
„The youngling, the battlecharger, AND Impactor” the dealer reminded the customer.  
„Let me get this straight, you want thirty thousand, plus ridding you of Impactor.”  
The deal was made.


	2. Silvery shine

The new master was a tall mech, light gray and blue, with some mask-like dark pattern around his blue optics. He didn’t wear the usual purple Autobot insignia, but there was a strange red pattern on his forehead that the sparkling considered to be pre-dating the face-like symbol. His voice was calm, detached.   
„You two, wait for me outside. Runabout, come.”  
The old-looking mech walked in an easy, yet graceful way, fast, but without hurry. He caught up with the slim blue Autobot as he was doing the imprinting before leaving the facility with his white bargain. They were standing in a corner, chest against chest, head against head, possessing blue glare against submissive red optics.   
„Good aslongasyoudoeverythingastold Iwon’thurtyouIpromise justdon’tevertrytostandinmyway.”  
The white one shivered, and obediently backed away, giving his master the personal space he required. The owner turned around to see the other customer blocking his path, and even worse, he seemed to be doing it on purpose.   
„Whodoyouthinkyouare! Letmegoand goaboutyoubusinessbeforeIrunyouover!”  
The older mech smiled.  
„Not so fast, young Blurr. I would never question your speed but sometimes it’s worth to use your brakes too.“  
„Whotheslagareyou whatdoyouwantfromme?”  
„I just came to give you a little advice to remember: couriers are meant to connect, never to separate. Keep that in your CPU, and don’t ever break a set, for the two halves might turn useless without each other.” With that, he signaled the black robot to join his white brother. „Consider my advice a gift.” With that, he stepped out of the way, into the outside light.   
„Whatdoyouwant doyouwantmetotaketheblacktoo?”  
„He’s yours. Just treat him as a gift, never as a property you’d bought. Will I see the three of you leave? Together?”  
„Isthatwhatyouwant?”   
\- - - - - -  
„That soft-sparked do-gooder bought the whining black so that they would not be separated. How typical of him.”  
The sparkling gave Impactor a deep look, but he wouldn’t mention the same „soft-sparked do-gooder” just got him out of the prison area, and if that wasn’t an act of kindness and undeserved mercy, he couldn’t imagine what was.   
„Don’t talk about our master like that” he said in a cold, firm voice.   
„Hah. Do you know anything about him?” Impactor asked. The sparkling didn’t feel an obligation to answer.  
There was an odd-looking vehicle waiting not far from the entrance. It was red and gray, and had at least twelve tough-looking metal wheels. Impactor walked there, patting its side while murmuring „You still stick with this moron, Train? I thought you were free to leave anytime you chose to.”  
The unpainted robot wondered why Impactor was talking to the strange vehicle, but he didn’t feel like asking. He stepped out into the light, looking up at the sky for the first time in his life. This outside world was so grandiose, so alien for him. But there was his Master, watching the blue Autobot running at breakneck speed, closely followed by the black and the white.   
„Let’s get going” the old mech said, making an inviting gesture with his hand. The sparkling followed him inside the vehicle without hesitation, Impactor made a confused face before he was grabbed by the arm and pulled inside.   
The silvery mech sat down, facing Impactor confidently. Their owner was giving instructions a little farther, but watching the two other mechs, wondering whether their opposition would remain for the rest of their lives. When he finished, he sat down next to the sparkling, who immediately turned to him, watching the light gray face with the dark pattern around the optics in awe and curiosity.   
„We’ll do the imprinting when we’re at home. I understand you’re so young, everything must be new for you, I need to give you time until I have your perfect attention. But here are the basics: I expect you to do your best, and don’t be afraid to become who you really are. You may call me First like almost everybot does. My mines are the largest in the region, the complete cave system reaching from the Tagan Heights almost to the Sonic Canyons. Do your job well and you will learn to like the place.”   
Train carried them South-West from Tarn to Polyhex, and the Master spent most of the time talking to the sparkling: about the Tagan Heights, about Cybertron’s astrological position in the present and in the past, about the creation of the Cybertronian race, about the God of Light and the God of Chaos. The sparkling was either looking out of a window or looking in his Master’s optics, asking questions usually as soon as First finished his sentences. Impactor made comments from time to time, but First ignored them, and so did the young one.   
„Master?”  
„Yes? What is it, tireless sparkling of mine? You still have something unanswered?”  
„What is that large shadow over there?”  
„That is Darkmount. What have I told you about it?”  
„It is the centre and the capitol of the Polyhex region, it used to be a Decepticon fortress in the historical times, it’s commander was.... uhm....”  
„Straxus” First helped him out, but he withheld and let the sparkling continue.  
„Straxus, best known for his poetry that is well known thoughout this universe. His name became one with that of his fortress, when he couldn’t publish under his own name he published his works as Darkmount and everybot knew it was him.”  
First smiled at the eager youngling, blue eyes shining brightly against the dark gray pattern.  
„Exactly, young one. But we won’t go that far now. We’re going home. Right, Train?”  
As if answering, the vehicle turned slightly right and rallied underground.   
For half a breem, it was all dark. Mysterious, welcoming dark, they could only see some ore conformations lit by the rare safety lights. As they went deeper, the athmosphere began to feel heavier, and the air was filled with unmistakeable smear oil and ventillation dust smell.   
„For now, you will only notice it’s hard and smelly” First proclaimed. „In time, you will learn. A good miner does not rely on lights. Dwellers can take them out. Anything can happen. A good miner will navigate in his mine by the smells and the direction of the breeze, by the echo of the walls, and by the taste of the raw energon in the air.”  
It was the first time Impactor admitted he agreed.   
Train came to a stop at an energon storage pit. As they stepped out, both First and Impactor sighed, letting their panels loose, their internal vents speeding up to let in the familiar smells of the mine. Just as First said, taste of energon was lingering in the air.   
The workers around had put their tools down, greeting their master before returning to their jobs. A brown mech, not nearly as bulky as the others, remained there, frowning at the sight of Impactor but not questioning his master’s decision.   
„Good to see you again, First” he said, bowing with respect. „Welcome home. We missed you, you missed nothing.”  
„Thank you, Walky. It’s good to be home indeed. I knew nothing would come to it.”  
„Not on my watch.”  
„Good. Come here, sparkling. This is my faithful mine captain, Walky. He will show you around, help you find your place. Take any command from him as if it was from me.”  
„I will.”  
Walky put his hand on the sparkling’s shoulder, recognising his stern stuff with a nod. First turned to the vehicle, giving it a wry smile.   
„You still won’t risk it on your own? All right, Train. Let’s do it together.”  
He put both hands on the front of the vehicle, muttered „focus”, then counted. At the count of three, Train started to transform.   
It was a relatively long process, panels turning, swifting, swirling, switching places. „That’s it, Train, don’t you give up. You’re almost there.... right, that’s it.”  
Where the vehicle used to be, lay a gray and red mechling, not larger than the miners. His red optics were dim and wary, his sigh exhausted, his smile uncertain.   
„Train is a rescue” Walky explained. „ Autobots were using him for some transformation experience, by the time First found him, he already lost more than half of his mass in subspace. Knowing his abilities, I believe First found that part of him first.”  
„Impactor mentioned Train was free to leave anytime....”  
„Don’t give Impactor a credit. Train is free to go indeed, but where would he go? The surface is dominated by the Autobots, not a company he or any of us would long for. This is a sanctuary. You should consider yourself lucky to be here. ’Bots above, dwellers under, this is where we rejoice in Primus’s embrace. Come, I’ll show you to the active veins.”  
\- - - - - -   
The sparkling spent the next few orns packing ore and raw energon into crates of diffierent size, and carrying them to the subsurface rails that were laid to facilitate Train’s getting around when he was in alternate mode. He indeed proved to be hard-working, strong, durable. He was a good miner, a useful slave, and for him, there was nothing wrong with these.   
He had rarely seen his master, or even Walky, for that matter. He was working behind an unnamed miner, watching and following him. He might have had some programming on drilling through the wall of stone, but there was much to learn from experience. He was taught not to go „straight like some mindless drone”, he had to check where exactly the ore was in front of him. He had to scan the architecture of the already mined levels so that he wouldn’t drill out a weight-carrying pillar from under a few megatons of rocks. He couldn’t go too far with the driller without stanchioning his way back. And, most important of all, he had to be careful not to round on a dweller or other technorganic of the depths.   
The older minders told him scary stories about these creatures. First forbade them to try and hurt any of Cybertron’s native wildlife, not that they could do much harm to a monster like that, in the first place. Dwellers would come to the mine from time to time, and he was told the only wise thing in this case would be to duck and cover at the closest side-vein and stand still, avoiding the beast’s attention. Low-toned metallic rattles would help in keeping the situation safe, for it might calm the monster and assure him that they wouldn’t invade their feedingplace. He was shown an energon vein with a dweller in it, the technorganic was feeding on the raw energon, sucking it out of the wall, moving forward slowly. He was told not to disturb the beast, so that it would leave in a few joors peacefully. When it did, the miners returned to the vein, removed the layer of drained energon from the surfaces, and continued digging as if nothing happened. But if there was a pillar that the beast didn’t touch, the miners took care not to touch it either. If the dweller avoided it, he must have done with a reason, and they knew no sensors would match those of a creature that evolved in the past few eons exactly for undersurface environment.   
One orn his master came for him. The sparkling greeted him with the usual respect and adoration, albeit he was covered in smear oil and powderised raw energon covered his shoulders and his front. First invited him to come to the explored but not yet mined area, and he was honored to follow his superior. First smiled at his enthusiasm, but kept his calm and responsible manner, looking back at him proudly, confident that he spent that thirty thousand shanix the best way possible.   
The sparkling paced by his side, his steps hard but rythmic, he only stopped when they came across the first aquitard sealing in the tunnel.   
„As I’m sure you remember, the deeper levels are mine almost to the Sonic Canyons. Which means we have to go under the Rust Sea. The cave is safe, I keep checking on that myself, but it’s better to have seals so that even if the ceiling would start leaking the liquid rust would not flood the mines. There are also refuges wherever I found a natural cave chamber, and the seals were built so that even if somebot might be trapped down here, they would survive until help would come.”  
„This whole place is a refuge” the sparkling noted, and his remark made First smile.   
„I take it you met the empties, then?”  
The sparkling shut up. He was not exactly proud of having sneaked into the abandoned veins without permission, but he wouldn’t lie to his master now that he asked.  
„I have been to the M vein once” he admitted.   
„The M vein” First nodded. „That is under, and named for the Metallic Bay, northest and largest gulf of the Rust Sea. Those robots you met might be the oldest neutrals on this planet, I outdate some of them by mere four or five vorns. It’s a shame that they are being hunted on the surface, taken to smelting pools for obviously no reason but their peaceful ways and unability to fend for themselves anymore.”  
„But you’re here for them, Master” the sparkling said cheerfully. However, the blue optics darkened and First’s face went stiff.  
„I wish I could be there for all of them, all the time. In fact, I can do little when it comes to matters on the surface. I gain my power from Primus himself, the closer I am to his core, the stronger I get. I am but a regular mech up there, and I would be a weakling without his presence.   
The sparkling didn’t stop, but the shock was clearly written on his face. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t imagine his deeply respected Master being weak. But he couldn’t help realisation either: the caves and the mines, the whole underground territory was not simply a refuge for the others, for miners, for empties, for Impactor or for Train. It was First’s refuge, and they were lucky he was willing to share it.   
But how could a still young and overly curious sparkling keep silent for longer than a klik?  
„How thick is the rock above us?” he asked. The sheer thought of the Rust Sea running high above their heads was intoxicating.  
„It would take me a whole orn to dig from here to the sea bottom. For you, it would take half the time.”  
For the sparkling it was obvious that his owner was teasing him. He laughed out loud, and even his usually composed master was giggling. Life felt so easy at that moment – the two of them were alone in an unmined tunnel, deep under the surface, safely hidden from any danger at the moment, close to Primus, far from anybot else.


	3. Burden

„This was the last aquitard” the Master said, but his normally loud and clear voice was suppressed by the sounds of enomous engines. The sounds of the metallic planet itself. Or the sounds of the cosmos, depending on the way you looked at them.  
„Turn down your audios until you learn how to use them here” the Master said, and the sparkling was quick to obey. He didn’t know how would he be instructed to switch them back, but he didn’t really care. He did as he was told.  
The tunnel was getting crooked and there were branches spreading in different directions. First took one that was going straight upwards.  
By the time they reached the surface, he could hear the metallic song of the planet and the cosmos. His audio sensors may have been shut down but he had a whole body resonating to the sound. He looked at First, questioningly. Didn’t he just say that his strength lay deep under the surface, and he was vulnerable when he came out?  
First looked back at his hesitating companion, and gave a hand signal that could only mean the old mech was completely safe and comfortable here; those rules described earlier might only apply elsewhere. The silver-shining mech made it to the surface, feeling the vibration of air and ground shake every little component of his body. It was the most unique sensation ever.  
And there they were standing, by the edge of the Sonic Canyons, watching as the constant tremor shattered smaller fragments of the metallic ground right under their feet. Yet First seemed to be safe.... and if that was the case, so was the youngling.  
The light gray mech was standing there for quite a long time, with the silvery one right beside him. He didn’t seem to mind the sounds or the ground slowly evaporating under his feet. For long breems, he was just standing, and the sparkling was sure he was actually listening to the incredible voice. Later, he had the impression his master was actually talking to someone. But who could it be? Primus? Knowing all the gossip he picked up in the mines, it was more likely than not. The mech had a history, at least.  
Finally, First turned around, his hand reached out for the sparkling. His gentle touch on the wide unpainted shoulders added to the unique but comfortable sensation. His sparkbeat was boosted by the vibration. So he chose this place for the imprinting! Back then, he said „home”. And „until I have your perfect attention”. So why here, where they couldn’t even hear each other’s voice?  
The sparkling tried to guess, he couldn’t make up any plausible explanations, but he was sure his master didn’t do anything at a venture. Until now, he respected First by his native programming. From now on, First was his MASTER whom he would follow anywhere, blindly, with faith... and hope that one orn he would understand him.  
On their way home, they were both silent. What could they tell each other they haven’t known already? Their sparks had been synchronised by the most perfect being they had known. There were some obvious differences between their databanks, but for now, this little difference didn’t matter to them at all. Words could wait. Especially since their audio sensors were still ringing with the billion voices of the cosmos they just heard. It wasn’t until they reached the last aquitard that the sparkling was signaled to switch his audio back.  
„You remind me of a friend of mine” First stated. „A friend long lost, and never to be found. He was strong in body and will, determined to be the cogwheel of the multiverse. When he was lost, so was his name, so was his friendship. I name you after him, Megatron, and my faith is solid you won’t fall like he did.”  
Megatron.  
It sounded good. It was a name full of strength, full of promises.  
„What happened to my namesake?”  
It seemed like First hoped to be given a little time before being asked that question. „He was given a task he was too strong for” he admitted.  
Megatron did not understand.  
First promised he would explain sometime.  
\- - - - - - -  
Joors passed, cycles, vorns. The once unexperienced silver sparkling became a well-trained miner, a robot known for his endurance. He could have well been a mine captain, but First said it would be too early for him. A captain is bound to his mine. Megatron was free to choose his own place for mining, may it be the crystal energons under Polyhex or the cybertronium-rich area by Tagan. He often wandered off to the Sonic Canyons, checking the ceiling of the tunnel under the Rust Sea, keeping the aquitards in operable condition. The only thing he avoided was the company of Impactor: he preferred a dweller to him, and when First asked about this, he firmly stated he despised the Autobot.  
„He is digging around Darkmount not only to slink out to the surface, and when he’s not, he would mine the crystal energon for himself.”  
First nodded.  
„He is holding on to the illusion of freedom. You – you never had it. Perhaps I should feel guilty for that.”  
Freedom?  
„I would have stayed here, and you know this.”  
„That is why I don’t feel guilty” the light gray and blue mech smiled. „Megs, I have a little upgrade for you, but before you agree to it....”  
They both bursted out laughing. Having just discussed that he would not set Megatron free, First asked for his permission on a simple upgrade.  
„Yes, Master?”  
„It is an electrosonic sensor with a range twice as big as the one you currently use. You push it to the wall here and you can scan an oxideshark swimming above. Technically, it comes with some sort of a programming, but I want you to learn it from the only other mech who has a similar device.”  
The mech nodded. Of course he knew who was First talking about.  
„You have the right to disagree.”  
Megatron looked at his silver coating. He was told that the shine might jam some sensors being used in the ore veins, but his master told him he could stay like that until he chose where exactly he would dig so that he would only be painted accordingly. And with not making him a mine captain, he allowed the young mech to stay this way.  
„Yes but do I have the right to disappoint you?”  
Much later, thinking back, he realised he should have at least hesitated before agreeing to the upgrade.  
Impactor was a mech braced for the difficulties of life, independent in a way Megatron hoped he would never become. He was cursing too much, too, for the younger slave’s taste, and on the rare occasions he was not, he talked about the orns of his lost freedom.  
„But you were not imprinted by anybot” he hissed when the swearing became too much to bear. „According to your programming you are still a free ’Bot and I believe First would not want it any other way. So, what?”  
„I didn’t expect our Master’s number one pet to say anything different.”  
„I do as requested. I belong to him, and I live in his mines, I feed on his energon, and unlike a certain ’Bot I display some loyalty!”  
„You don’t need to explain yourself” the older Cybertronian’s right hand harpoon slid into a fracture in the stone, digging deeper and deeper until the rock began to crack.  
„Jealous?”  
Impactor spun around so fast he almost broke his harpoon still fixed in the rock.  
„What? How would an Autobot ever be jealous of some dust-biter slaggy Decepticon? You don’t even know what the outside looks like, you have not even touched a femme, oh and before I forget, you’re property!”  
It took the silver mech some time before he could answer. „It’s all right, as long as I’m not yours.”  
„Some day you will be.”  
„Quit daydreaming.”  
Impactor turned back to the wall of rock and his harpoon still stuck in there. He rotated the blade with such anger he managed to rupture the stark material.  
They’d been hammering side by side then, without a word, but exchanging deadly looks all the time. Sometimes Impactor rattled „unworthy young slag”, „submissive ore”, „fraggin’ little scrap” or „disgustingly loyal slave”.  
At this last insult, Megatron nodded, „Jealous.”  
Impactor turned away and shut up for a while.  
„Do you think you have any future here, sparkling?” he managed when he realised Megatron would not continue their conversation.  
He would not reply either.  
„I’d expected a slave that was named mere eight breems after imprinting to receive some.... promotion by now.”  
Megatron gave him an angry glance.  
„Some recognition of your grim adherence. Of the way you struggle to bring your very best, orn after orn, shift after shift.... you were granted some little frag of freedom and you don’t even make use of that.”  
They reached the energon crystals, their blue shine beckoning with friendly glow. The silver mech started putting them in the crate behind their backs, while Impactor hid most of them under his metallic armor. „You might have not heard about it, but raw energon crystals of this size worth quite some money. You just need to know whom to sell them to.”  
„What is the surface like?”  
So naive, so innocent a question.  
„You have never been to the surface?”Impactor asked after some hesitation.  
„Not here. Not to any cities since we were bought” Megatron explained, trying hard not to emphasize „we”.  
Impactor looked down at him with pity.  
„You don’t even go where your master cannot?”  
„He can” Megatron muttered, but after a little thinking he shook his head. He truly hadn’t been to anywhere where First would not go.  
„So, where were you then?”  
„At the Sonic Canyons. Several times with our Master and more and more on my own.” He remembered how often he’d found First sitting by the side of the enormous Canyons, listening to the sounds of the many universes, looking longingly at the noisy sky. Sometimes Megatron would just sit beside him, earning a sad smile and a pat on his shoulders before First turned back to the loud valley.  
The more time he spent there, the more he understood. First once explained him the real purpose of the place. It was not simply a site where Cybertron’s inner sounds would be emitted to the silent space. It was quite the other way round: the walls were echoing and magnifying the whispers of so many universes, all of which Primus was present in. It was one of his few active sensors, a way he would gather information about the events during his eons-long slumber, Vector Sigma processing the incoming information and keeping the planet known as Cybertron funcional.  
„Isn’t Vector Sigma the supercomputer that gave life to us all?” Megatron asked back then.  
„Of course” First smiled. „We are all Primus’s creations, created for the different purposes he had for us. We feed on energon, his pure blood, given to us unconditionally for we are like organs to him. All of us. Don’t ever forget that.”  
„I won’t.”  
„His energon gives us life, we exist because he wanted us to be. Our sparks are gifts from his spark, in this universe and in all others I have ever known.”  
„Why have you been exiled?” Megatron finally asked, working out the only explanation he could come up with.  
„Not exiled” First explained. „Defeated. Once there were thirteen of us. One Prime defected, and I ended up trapped here.”  
„Will you ever go back, rejoining the multiverse?”  
First made a sad smile again.  
„I don’t know. The Matrix might have forgotten about me but not all doors have been locked yet.”  
Megatron remembered back to this discussion several times but he still couldn’t decide what he really hoped to happen. Of course, he wanted to stay with First and serve him in any ways he could think of, but how could a slave not desire his master being free again?  
„I loath the Sonic Canyons” Impactor growled by his side. „How can anybot just stand that horrible, loud and meaningless noise?”  
Megatron, by this time, was one of the few mechs who actually understood. Well, not all of the sounds, but he could catch this and that, echoes of different worlds, different universes.  
But it was not the time to admit it.  
„Our Master does” he said.  
His faith seemed to fray Impactor’s wires.  
„What do you even know about him?”  
Megatron was already drilling again while Impactor was still packing blue energon crystals under his hide, so he had to turn around if he was to look back into Impactor’s optics. And now that he could see, he smiled.  
„Well, I know that he’s standing behind us.”  
In the same moment, realisation hit him. Hard. As they were both talking while drilling, they got further than they should have! And it wasn’t only the normal mining scene he was used to, there was a whole city above their heads, with many heavy buildings, with its structures rupturing the normally cohesive rock above their heads. In fact, they dig a tunnel with them being in the blind end, First shouting something at the crossing with the mineshaft, and probably a skyscraper standing above them!  
And what was his master shouting?  
The silvery mech offlined his driller.  
Impactor must have come to the same conclusion, he silenced his driller too. He was about to press his electrosonic sensor against the ceiling, but a menacing murmur could already be heard by normal audiosensors.  
„We don’t have time for that, come!” Megatron said as he grabbed Impactor by the arm and started pulling him upways.  
First was running down the tunnel towards them.  
He obviously hadn’t heard the cracking sounds.  
Or maybe he had.  
„No, Master!” Megatron screamed. „STAY AWAY! Tur....”  
The clamour of the collapsing tunnel didn’t allow any other voices to be heard.  
\- - - - - - - - - -  
„Impactor?”  
„Slag.”  
„I thought that was the name of a friend of yours.”  
„Fraggit.”  
„I agree.”  
They had no lights but their blue and red pairs of optics glowing. They looked at each other, and sighed in unison. As long as they both saw two optics, they were both fine. Physically.  
„Megatron?”  
„Yes, Impactor?”  
„Is your scanner still functional? Mine has been hit.”  
Megatron got up. Apart from a few scratches, he was functional, including his equipment. He confirmed that Impactor was also operable, once his right leg would be freed from under the clinker. He got down to work, occasionally checking the rockfall with his brand-new sensor, but he couldn’t be sure about the readings. He had only hoped that First was safe on the other side of the lock.  
If there was anything good in setting Impactor free from the rockfall, it was his experience with the electrosonic sensor. Only, the two miners had one tool, and it was attached to the less experienced one. Impactor gave comments and explanations and sometimes an advice, while Megatron had to work out the new details of their surroundings.  
„I’m trapped here with a slave” Impactor murmured beside him.  
Megatron blinked at the Decepticon insignia graven into his chest panel, and compared it to the purple pattern painted on his fellow sufferer. Then he turned back to his sensor, as if he realised he had something more important to do.  
„There’s a dweller walk about five metrics from here” he said, as if in an answer to the Autobot’s lament. „Strange that my old sensor doesn’t show it.”  
„The crystals jam the older equipment” Impactor explained. „Rely on the new one and get me out of here.”  
The silvery mech went to check which driller would fit better for the job he was facing now. A five-metrics-thick job in dangerous surroundings, and with bad company. „I will. Now step out of my way and allow me to save us.”  
If it was meant to be an insult to get Impactor on his feet, it failed miserably. Megatron didn’t care. He only wanted to reach the dweller walk and continue mapping the caved-in area until he would find his Master. No matter the cost.  
He would even bear Impactor’s company for that.  
The harpoon-handed miner was relatively silent behind his back, watching as Megatron dig through the rock. He asked rarely about the dweller walk Megatron was heading to, warning him to avoid any detectable crystals in the rock.  
„If the dweller left the crystal there, he might have had a reason” he explained. Megatron noted this and kept drilling.  
He left Impactor behind, and now that he was alone, he couldn’t help wondering about reasons behind this cave-in. Clearly, it was their fault because they ignored the safety regulations of not digging faster than the underpinners would follow. There were no underpinners watching their backs at all. If this was what happened when he disobeyed an order, then it was enough insolence for a lifetime. But it wasn’t only that. When he realised the tunnel was about to collapse he ignored the very basics of respect and shouted at his Master. He should have never done that. He ordered First to turn around. Ordered. A slave, ordering his master. He felt horrible with that. And what if.... what if there was no way to apologize? First was a strong mech but not as strong as to survive a cave-in, not if he was caught in the middle. Megatron could only hope that the old mech made it to the other side of the lock safely. The fear of losing First bit into his spark with an almost physical pain, and the memory of his scurvy disrespect added to that.  
_Master?_ He tried.  
He got the thought transmitter three orns ago, just before the sensor upgrade. The device implanted close to his CPU was a one-way radio, a bug originally intended for work supervisors to constantly monitor the thoughts of the most troublesome slaves. The medic who implanted it totally failed to understand why First would need it, and especially, why would he need it placed in the head of his most obedient, loyal, faithful slave whom he would have trusted with his life.  
_So much about my loyalty, my faith_ Megatron thought bitterly, thinking back to the moments before the cave-in.  
The transmitter never worked. They’ve been told that it could take up to twenty joors to properly setup and activate, but no matter how hard Megatron tried, he could not air a single thought.  
_I’m so sorry,_ he struggled. _I have disobeyed the rules you set. I shouted at you. And because of what’s been my fault, I’m afraid I won’t even be able to apologize_.  
Then he heard something. The stone was cracking as the driller reached closer to the dweller walk. He could hear the cave wind behind it. He was almost safe by now.  
He could not bear it if he got out with a few dents while his master offlined.  
_Master, please be all right. I beg you._  
Just as the driller reached the dweller walk, he felt something change inside his metallic brain. For a moment he was unsure of what it was, but then his inner sensors picked up what could only be a receiving signal.  
_Master?_  
He made it to the dweller walk, from here, he only had to find the best direction to go until he could get back to the mine. But he already could make out voices in the distance. One certain voice that he just hoped to hear again.  
„Megatron? Megatron! Thank Primus, you survived!”  
_I’m in the dweller walk,_ he replied. Impactor’s right leg has been hit. I will get him. I don’t know where this dweller walk leads to, but see you on the other side.  
He still felt guilty for all what had happened, but it was much easier to bear now that he knew First was safe. He left the driller in the dweller walk and returned for Impactor.  
Much later, when they were all safe and functional, sipping a cubeful of high-grade „for the shock”, Impactor bowed his head to the silvery slave for the first and only time in his life. He owed the younger mech a thank you, afterall. Then he turned to the mine owner, noticing his dents and scratches for the first time.  
„How does it feel to be mortal?” he asked without any sarcasm.  
First answered in a lower tone.  
„I think I’m getting used to it. It greatly depends on the company, you know.”  
Impactor grimaced at this remark.  
„Let me imagine. At least, your young follower here has proven himself, I suppose.”  
Megatron immediately remembered back his shame, his own commanding tone to his owner. He lowered his optics to the ground. Even though the thought transmitter was a one-way device, he was sure his Master was thinking of the same aspect of the accident.  
„I’ve been waiting for you to mature to this point, Megatron” he said in a voice that made the young slave feel even more uncomfortable. „I’ll need you to come to the Hastak ramp with me.”  
Icy cold swept through Megatron’s circuits. He had never been to the area most miners considered as First’s private. Why would he need to go there? Was his sin.... that terrible?  
He had never been punished before. Not that he wouldn’t consider it rightful now....  
His transmitter must have been airing his thoughts because First turned to him, whispering „You might just not know how right you are.” His sad, almost apologising optics and the friendly pat on his shoulders confused Megatron even more.  
He felt like a shining embodiment of guilt as he walked in First’s footprints. He shouldn’t have yelled at his Master, this was unforgiveable....  
„You only wanted to save my life” First reminded him, trying to cheer the silvery mech up a little.  
But still.  
They have reached what looked like an old med bay, with few functional tools in there but a Cyberium-alloy safe under the worktable and a medical berth in the middle of the room. First leant down as he slowly unlocked the safe.  
„Get on the berth” he commanded quietly. He was holding some kind of a data transfering device. It looked like First had prepared for this event, whatever he was planning....  
„A part of you will resist this upgrade” he muttered while attaching the cable to Megatron’s forehead. „I’m sure it will knock you out. I’m so sorry I have to do this.” He reached out for Megatron’s right hand as the large mech was silently trembling with fear. By now he knew he was facing something First had no control over. „I will be here with you all the time.”  
Megatron looked up to him, bracing himself for whatever that might come.  
He started the upload.  
It went on for almost a cycle. Megatron seemed to be lying peacefully for most of the time, but First could see the monitors showing the chaos in his mind as he was fighting against the incoming information. At one point he almost managed to press it back. First was amazed by this strong will, and was ashamed of the fact he had to do this. But he knew Megatron was strong enough. He hoped for it when they met in the slave store. He guessed when he touched Megatron’s spark at the Sonic Canyons when he led him there for the first time. After the cave-in, he was sure.  
The upload was complete. It took another breem for the last batch of data to settle out, but the silvery mech was already coming to. It must have been his first defeat ever, and yet he seemed to keep it well in hand. First silently lamented to himself that he had to shatter the young Cybertronian, but he knew he made the right decision.  
„Why....” Megatron whispered. First clasped the hand he was already holding. Those familiar red optics onlined, their shine was brighter than ever before. Their shade of red matched the insignia on First’s forehead.  
Megatron sat up, then offlined his optics again, focusing on the fact he was deep inside Cybertron, safely in his friend’s shelter, comfortably far from the surface. His optics onlined once again.  
„So much destruction” he murmured.  
„I know.”  
A part of him just wanted to doss down, but his stronger self kept him sitting. He looked at First as if he’d just realised he was still there by his side.  
„It will take some time for you to settle with this” First said. „You’ve been through the worst part. You’re a durable young mech, Megatron. In time you will learn to accept who you are.”  
The thought transmitter aired _I didn’t want this_.  
First stood up, then helped Megatron up too.  
„I warned you that you would resist, and you fought as if your life was up to it. Leadership is a hard burden.”


	4. Past

It had been five orns since the unholy upgrade, but Megatron still felt like a fragged piece of slag. He was still working by Impactor’s side, and he was surprised how the snobbish Autobot seemed to give him some credit since he rescued both of them after the cave-in. And they’ve been careful not to drill without stanchioning the tunnel behind their backs again.  
„You look like scrap” the Autobot was kind to inform Megatron. „Whatever Primon has done to you, I never expected him to slag you like that.”  
The silvery mech was hammering the rock with his bare hands, the stone evaporating under the rythmic strikes of his fists. It was not the first time he heard Impactor say the real name of their master, but he had never asked back before. Now he did.  
„What do you know about him?”  
Before he could continue, a white shadow jumped playfully behind them, waving a paw.  
„Hello, miners. Could you please tell me where I can find First? I just want to say hi like I do every orn.”  
Megatron turned to the newcomer.  
„He has some business to do in Iacon, but I’m sure he would be back soon.”  
The white robot looked Megatron straight in the eye, then came forward and pushed his head against the miner’s shin. „Thanks for the news” he purred before disappearing in a fracture that would have been far too narrow for any miners.  
„Empties” Impactor remarked. „Good-for-nothing parasites gathering here. I’d prefer dwellers for them.”  
„One Empty” Megatron corrected him. „And I gave up counting how many you’d prefer dwellers to.”  
„Just to cool you down, your beloved owner is not one of them.”  
The silvery mech looked at Impactor, thoroughly looking for a sign of sarcasm, but he found none. He decided he’d better not pry.  
Train arrived just a few cycles later, carrying a weakened First and two young Empties he must have rescued on this journey. Megatron could only hope his thought transmitter wasn’t airing _You look like a scraped batch of raw circuits._ He hurried to support First as he almost fell out of Train, weakly muttering „You will need to do it on your own, my friend.”  
Megatron looked at the hesitating Train, watching him transform. He had still found this drastic change in a Cybertronian’s form amazing. It was still an Autobot privilege and a relatively new achievement of technology, and mass shifting was an experimental developement Train was still trying to aquire. He was comfortable with performing a mass shift with the mine owner’s help, but this was the first time he managed it on his own.  
„See? I told you! You can do it” the Master smiled before muttering to Megatron „Please, help me to the nearest berth. A little recharge will surely get me better.”  
They had stumbled to the berth in a miner’s refuge, Megatron setting the equipment to the Master’s parameters. The old mech seemed to be out of energon, as if he’s been starving for vorns. It wouldn’t have made sense in any other robot’s case, but First was obviously operating differently then the rest of Cybertron’s population. Megatron looked up, hoping to find Train and ask him what happened, only to find everybot disappeared from the usually beehive mineshaft. That was some way of giving privacy!  
The silvery mech stayed with his Master, watching his offline frame tremble from time to time. Megatron couldn’t help but sit beside him, wondering about the irony of fate: mere five orns ago it was First sitting by Megatron in a similarly uncomfortable situation.  
Then, at the end of the recharge cycle, First sat up as if he had suddenly remembered he had some indispensable business.  
_What is it, my Master?_  
„Shattered mirror.... fractured glass” First muttered weakly. „Horrible things are happening on the surface, my friend” he explained a few kliks later, when his systems completely loaded. „These Autobots are raving mad, of the worst kind. We have found a small colony of free Decepticons hiding in Vos. I can only hope they are still alive. And what’s worse, these dark Autobots are now aware of my weaknesses.” First looked around, checking there were no other robots eavesdropping. „Megatron, listen to me. You will be the leader. You’re the most talented mech I have ever seen. Now go back to work. Tell the others I will be along in a few joors. Don’t worry, this will truly be nothing but a recharge.”  
Megatron tried to obey, but his native slave programming was severely weakened by the last upgrade. He failed at not worrying for First. The light gray and blue mech had been so vulnerable, and if what he told was true, then his enemy knew his weak point. _Autobots_ , he remembered. Those Autobots on the surface are his enemies now.  
\- - - - - - -  
Impactor had disappeared from the mines. Megatron never liked him, but his leavetaking left him confused. Did he go because First wasn’t the sturdy mech to protect them all from the dangers of the surface? Did he really want to go and stay up there? He hoped it was the later. First got his strength back in no time, he was checking on the mines like before, making sure all his workers were safe and sound. And he asked Megatron not to worry about Impactor. It was his decision to leave. So be it!  
_He shouldn’t have left like that._  
„He is a free mech, afterall” First muttered. He was holding a fragile knife-shaped tool, pressing its peak into the rock, staring into what looked like the knife’s handle. „This looks amazing!”  
„What is that, Master?”  
_You’re changing the subject._  
„This? It’s called a nanoscope. It magnifies the sight for studying the crystal structures in situ. I have never seen drops of electrum frozen into cyberium like this before. Do you want to see it? It’s wonderful.”  
Megatron leant over the nanoscope, watching the cyberium-rich stone and the tiny drops of golden mass trapped inside them.  
„I knew there must be electrum in this layer, but I couldn’t find it on my own. Isn’t it enthralling?”  
„It looks... alive” Megatron noted.  
„Of course it does! Meet Primus, my ignorant sparkling. Do you want to see how your inside looks like?”  
_Pardon me?_  
First grabbed Megatron’s arm and slipped the peak of the tool into the wrist right under the armguard panels. „There it is” he smiled. „Ah, you’re as curious as you have always been.”  
Megatron could see his own functional structures for the first time in his life. He never had an idea how complicated structures he had.  
„And what are those flicking little lights?” he stared.  
„Those are your thoughts. You’re sending them towards the nanoscope, that’s why there are so many around here.”  
„They look like dwellers. Is there a reason my thoughts look like dwellers?”  
„Yes. That’s because you are a member of the Cybertronian race, created by and in the image of Primus. Of course your thoughts look like his.”  
_Dwellers... being Primus’s thoughts?_  
„You still have much to learn, Megs.”  
The silvery robot nodded in respect. Of course, he would learn. But please, not as rapidly as in the medical room of the Hastak ramp.  
„What happened to your friend you named me after? What was he like before?” he asked as he pulled his arm back and continued loading a bogie. First was standing on the other side of the rails, examining their surroundings with the nanoscope.  
„What do you want to hear? Megatronus Prime was the toughest and most intrepid of us. He was daring and nimble-witted. If he was up to something there was no was stopping him. And these very traits lead to his downfall. Each of us, all Thirteen, have been tasked with an aspect of the multiverse, to keep it running while Primus healed and Unicron was trapped. Twelve of us represent aspects of Primus, to keep watch while he is asleep. Megatronus Prime, to keep the balance, was assigned to be the guardian of entropy and chaos. He carried it too far.”  
„Did he bring chaos to you?”  
„Worse” First answered. „He brought the Chaos-bringer.”  
„Unicron...?” Megatron frowned.  
„Well, he’s the only multiversal Chaos-bringer I know about. Looking back, his downfall was unavoidable. We fought the Fallen, but not as we should have.... not as a unit. We were divided by the diversification. He was trapped, just like his self-chosen new master was. But not before he finished me. I should be the Guide of all Matrix-bearers, yet I ended up here in a universe that’s complete opposite of anything I know. I don’t even have contact to the other Originals. And the Matrix.... the Matrix has forgotten about me!” First admitted bitterly. „I’m useless here, I’m out of place. This world on the surface is the Fallen’s realm. Those Autobots seek destruction rather than peace, their pointless cruelty stands against anything I would fight for. And when I tried to explain this to Sentinel, tried to make him behave like a Prime....” First hadn’t finished the sentence.  
Megatron looked at the gray and blue mech with fury. „So was it Sentinel Prime who tried to slag you?”  
_Oops, not a polite choice of words_.  
„If only it had been slag. But I survived, and that’s what matters. I may have been brushed aside from the Matrix, but Primus is with me, he is our home in all universes known. I’m safe with him. And, as long as you’re here, so are you.”  
Megatron understood his sad smile, nodded, and went back to scanning his surroundings with the electrosonic sensor. First was examining the rock, watching it through the nanoscope, mapping the area. He sometimes asked his companion for a strike with a fist here and there, collecting samples of the surpassingly hard material, analising but not taking it away from the shaft.  
„Just as I thought” he muttered, with the usual sad tone in his voice.  
„Did you find anything, Master? I have not.”  
_Have I missed anything?_  
„Nothing, other than the electrum in the wall, and its unusual hardness. But this is what I was looking for.”  
Before he could continue, two Empties appeared. They must have been those whom First brought home recently, for they were still mistrustful and timid. They were both painted red and blue, their optics shining with dim red light as an obvious sign of recent starving. But they seemed to be doing much better than when they arrived.  
„Hi, tinies” First greeted them before they could have escaped back to the tunnel they came from. „Hi. It’s me, remember? Do you want some goodies? Energon goodies for the little good robots?”  
They looked at each other for encouragement. They finally decided to near the old mech, hoping he would protect them, would the large silvery miner attack. Megatron gave a quick smile. Did he look that menacing?  
„Come, tinies, don’t be afraid, Megatron is a good friend of mine. Megs, meet Frenzy and Rumble. In theory, they can be told from each other by their paint patterns, but I get it wrong whenever I try.”  
„It’s nice to meet you, newcomers” the miner said, careful not to come closer or do anything that would scare the Empties away. First seemed to be glad they were around, distracting him from the not-so-happy memories. Megatron went back to scanning, keeping an optic on his owner.  
He did not depend on First like Train did, he did not require his attention. He was, simply, a miner who valued his master’s company over anything else.  
He spent the next few orns digging a tunnel in this firm material. First asked him to do it as fast as reasonably possible, so he stayed here even for recharge. When he didn’t show up in the main shaft for a whole cycle, Primon asked the two young Empties to deliver some energon for him. They did, Megatron thanked them, and continued drilling the hardest rock he’d ever found in the mines.  
He had been working for almost three cycles, and there was still nothing to be found. There were no valueable stones, nor much ore to mention. There were large energon deposits deep under the tunnel he was drilling, but First forbid him to divert from the original direction.  
„We have to save that energon for later” he explained. Megatron did not quarrel his owner, although he would have gladly done so. He was disappointed to see the null result of his hard work.  
First rarely came to visit him here, almost sneaking in his own territory to see what Megatron was doing. He seemed to be satisfied with his work, giving the miner some compensation for the seemingly pointless efforts.  
„You will understand sometime. You’ve been doing it well, and you’ve been doing it for yourself and all those who reside in my mines and maybe many more Cybertronians as well. Do you wish to understand me now?” He pulled out a data transfer device. „This is what was left from last time, I didn’t want to overburden your processors even more. But you need to take it once, and it won’t get any better if we delay it more.”  
After an astrosecond of hesitation, Megatron nodded.  
 __I cannot parry.  
First sat down to the makeshift berth the miner was using for recharge.  
„It won’t be as bad as last time” he promised.  
True, it wasn’t that bad, but it was still far from good. It was fast, at least. In less than half a cycle, Megatron was already regaining consciousness, and when First asked if he understood, he nodded with a sad bow in response. He was sure that one orn he would be thankful for this, but it was not the time.  
„I’m stuck in this upside-down universe, hiding deep down here” First whispered. „I thought the best that could happen to me was mere survival. Yet, in my solitude, Vector Sigma gave me a wonderful gift I’m trying to live up to.” A light gray hand patted a silvery shoulder. „I only hope to give you help throughout the rest of your life. I’m thankful for the gift that is you, and I would never ever intend to break you, not in any way, in any sense. I’m just glad that you exist.”  
„Thanks, First.”  
„Come.” Primon helped the younger mech up, which looked slightly comical since Megatron was larger and thougher than his owner. „Let’s check if that new consignment I ordered has arrived yet.”  
Megatron’s sensors were still coming back online, his sight was still blurred, but he had no problem navigating in the mines half-blind and dizzy. In fact, he could have gotten about with his chemical sensors switched off, in complete darkness, and after a whole cube of high-grade. He was in the mines he matured in. He was in the mines he called home.  
And now he even understood why he had to dig that blind-end tunnel in the depths of spoil gang.  
A long cry of pain shook the mines. It was coming from the surface, but was so loud it could even be heard on the lower levels of the central shaft. It was a scream of unbearable pain, and all miners immediately knew who the voice belonged to. They’d heard this mech cursing for a long while.  
Megatron’s face darkened as he identified the pitiful sound belonging to the traitor, and he couldn’t help but frown as he read First’s face and realised his owner decided to go to the surface and see what he could do for Impactor.  
He knew not to try to stop his master.  
„Let me come with you” he asked. Even though his programming was still settling with the newest changes and his sight still hadn’t cleared out completely. Even though his peaceful self refused the violence that was obviously waiting for them above. He feared for First. „Let this be a test flight.”  
Primon shook his head.  
„Someone has to guard the mines, my friend. Besides, Train will be by my side.”  
Megatron bit back a sad moan. Train was still not ready to transform when he didn’t necessarily have to, and he was so vulnerable during the process. If he hadn’t been a slave he would have stood in First’s way.  
„Trust me, Megs. I know what I’m doing.”  
He hoped. He very much hoped.  
Train took off for the surface. Megatron sat down, waiting for his Master’s return.  
He’d heard the scream once again, and it reflected unbearable torture. It must have been the pain of treason. Impactor deserved it, but he was just as sure that his Master would go and answer the call for help. He was just not the mech to ignore another’s need. Megatron walked in a small circle, remembering. When they first met in the store, Impactor called Primon a „soft-sparked do-gooder”. It was moments after the dealer talked First into taking Impactor for free.  
Somehow, he never asked how long Impactor was in the brig, or what kind of sin got him there. But he was sure at first look that Impactor deserved it. Maybe he would have deserved worse. But he was not going to queston his Master’s deeds.  
And then, he heard something, to which the horrible scream sounded almost preferable. This was the sound of laughter. Many of those above had been laughing, scornfully, victoriously. Megatron ordered the miners to prepare a first aid kit if they hadn’t done already.  
Train was coming in at almost freefall speed, breaking the rock on the other end of the cavern as he could not slow down in the tunnel. By the looks of his frontal plates, he had crashed through other walls already.  
First was lying in his cargo bay, his armor bent, his servos trembling, patches of rust covering his body all over. His chestplate was smashed, and pierced right in his spark was a crystal of menacing purple light, a material that was on the must-avoid list of any Cybertronians. It was dark energon.  
Megatron hurried there, knowing the crystal had to be removed at all costs.  
First looked up at him, whispering his name.  
„Go to the M vein, my friend” he said. „You will find a datacard right next to the diagonal fracture in which Ratbat usually resides. Do you know which I’m talking about?”  
Of course he knew.  
„Master, you....”  
„The datapad is hidden under a large rock of cyberium ore. You must get it. You might as well need to read it to the others....”  
Megatron came one step closer.  
„No, you moron! Stay away from me!”  
Confused and in worry, Megatron backed away.  
„I need you to get the datapad. NOW. Hurry!”  
The slave programming kicked in. Megatron had to obey.  
„Hurry!”  
He crossed the Polyhex tunnel at sidereal speed, making shortcuts wherever it was possible, crushing through an attenuated wall of dead ground, sliding down a dropshaft’s steep wall, climbing a two-storied mineral store and landing on the other end with a graceless roll, rushing towards the M vein as commanded. His thought transmitter was airing his position as if he was an insignificant dot on the map in their minds. He reached the vein, feeling his master’s faint urge despite the transmitter still working only one way. He had to get the datapad, so that’s what he would do! He marched in there, ignoring the Empties frightened off his way. He pushed the large ore away. He knelt down, grabbing the datapad in his sturdy hand.  
And then, just a few moments later, the last echoes of the receiving signal died away.


	5. The Pit

By the time Megatron got back to the central shaft it was already invaded. Autobot warriors gathered up the confused workers, Train’s inside was occupied by Springer and two of his troops. The crystal shard that took out First’s spark was thrown aside, probably by another miner who tried to save the owner after Megatron was forced to leave. The dead body itself was nowhere to be seen, only a few crumbly fragments of rust gave the location away.  
„Load the equipment, start with the slaves” a mech of Megatron’s size ordered, blue optics glowing in icy glare against a red and black structure and a purple Autobot sigil.  
There were so many of them. They were armed. They were Autobots, dominant faction of the surface above. There was no point to resist.  
They put him in a variable voltage harness attached to the cargo hold of the Autobots’ vehicle. Megatron had the opportunity to test his tolerance of pain. He wondered if he struggled against it enough, he might possibly get electrocuted so hard it would drain the energy from the vehicle. He found out the hard way the reserves in there were more than enough to keep him at bay. He learned the lesson that was missing from his programming: he would never surrender to an Autobot again. It would have required some trust on his side.  
He got used to trusting when he was Primon’s slave. That part of his life was over. First was dead. Not unlikely because of an Autobot he had trusted.  
„Don’t bother with the Empties, there are easier ways to get rid of them!” another Autobot shouted at his own troops. „We can’t risk an explosion!”  
Megatron noted this last remark. He knew from experience that raw energon made a very loud boom when in less capable servos. If the Autobots wanted him as a deadly enemy, so be it. He recalled how to collapse a tunnel or a shaft. He was ready to use his knowledge.  
He could see Train trying to shake his cargo away, but he could not move in this form, nor could he transform with Cybertronians standing on his floor. It was so wrong. Even if they knew nothing about the datapad, the Autobots had no right to do this....  
The only femme of the mine system, the Eastern Mine’s captain had been brought to the central shaft. She had a bulky pair of stasis scuffs on her fragile telescopic hands. Megatron remembered how she could reach into holes and fractures where the mechs would have had to move a whole wall. He started to wonder why the femme couldn’t simply pull her thin wrists out of the stasis cuffs, but by the time he asked himself, the captain was already on the loose, running towards the nearest dropshaft, racing for cover.  
An Autobot, clearly as a matter of routine and without any second thought shot the escaping prisoner in the back.  
Somebot screamed „Longarm!” Possibly it was him. Possibly it was anyone else who knew and loved the Captain. It could have been any of them.  
He tried again, but he couldn’t break the harness he was fixed into.  
Empties were fleeing. The cave workers had no means to escape.  
„I have cornered about a dozen of them in this fracture! Will I get a charge or two?”  
Megatron could do nothing as the detonator was thrown into the slim passway. He heard the first explosion. Perhaps the Autobots had no knowledge of the other side of the fracture. Each of these had been mazes themselves. The empties might have possibly survived if they made it to a collateral. Then there was a sequence of explosions as the raw energon went off. Megatron could only stare, hoping that at least some of the empties made it to the spoil rock. Those had a chance of survival...  
 __Primus, why do you allow this to happen?  
Megatron could only watch from the harness as the rest of the mine crew were commanded away. He wondered what would have happened if he had not been among the first ones to be caught. What if he hadn’t surrendered like a coward? What if he’d put up a fight?  
 __Maybe they would be all dead. All.  
Another explosion could be heard, this time, from the direction of the Taganian Passway. And it felt so... extraordinary wrong. Wrong.  
Megatron remembered the shard of dark energon was tossed away in that direction. Perhaps it had reacted with the energon stored in there. Perhaps some intrepid or stupid mech had thrown energon on it.  
„Run! To the abandoned energon veins, before this whole chamber goes off!” He managed to shout, screaming as the variable voltage harness automatically retributed the call.  
Those veins ended blindly. Perhaps it wasn’t even worth to shout. There was no escape there.  
Yet in the next moment he almost shouted out with glee as he heard a low murmur that he would have normally backed away from. Dwellers! Dwellers were coming! The sudden output of energy must had had lured them here.  
 __Primus!  
None of the Autobots noticed the danger yet.  
 __If those are truly your thoughts, I beg you use them.  
Some unknown voice in the distance screamed „Technorganics!” and another, immediately, from the other direction: „Dwellers!”  
The red and black Autobot reacted immediately.  
„Retreat! Take what we have, and collapse the shafts before those monsters reach us! We will come back for the energon later.”  
Reluctantly, Train started rolling to the ramp that lead to the surface. Megatron didn’t want to know how the Autobots made him to cooperate.  
„Wasp is still down there!”  
„I don’t care, collapse the shafts! Now!”  
Megatron realised too late that the tremors he could hear were not all technorganics’ noises, but the vehicle he was fixed in was moving too. If he had prepared, he could have taken the safety off. With good timing.  
He tried, one last time, as the vehicle was accelerating. He had to try it, there was no other option.  
Electricity struck him so hard this time, he offlined from the pain.  
\- - - - - - - - -  
He came to in another piece of equipment, it was also holding him tight but at least it wasn’t that uncomfortable. What was disturbing, was the probing touch of another Cybertronian’s mind prying into his own, noticing and using the transmitter implant, but reading his thoughts on his own powers too. The mind belonged to a mech slightly larger than Megatron, dull white, his insignia carved on the covering plate of his chest compartment. If his slave status wasn’t already obvious, there was an Autobot standing next to him, one whom Megatron had already seen in the mines.  
„This Cybertronian has fight and battle programming” the white slave announced. His voice was melodic, even comforting in a way.  
„Just as you guessed” the familiar red and black Autobot acknowledged. „You were right that we had to capture him first.”  
„No problem” another Autobot said, one whom Megatron could not see now, but he didn’t even need to see. He’d immediately recognised the voice.  
The voice of a traitor.  
The red and black Autobot stepped in front of Megatron, confident, visibly aware of the power that he had. Oh, yes, he obviously had power.  
„You are Sentinel Prime, if I’m not mistaken.”  
„You may call me Master” the red robot stated. Megatron would have really liked to see Impactor’s facial expression now. Did he think it was moment of triumph?  
 __Why would I do that?  
„If that’s what you want” Megatron replied casually.  
„That’s what I AM to you, slave!” The Prime seemed to have a temper. „I have finished off your former master, so your ownership transfers to me!”  
„So I guessed right” Megatron murmured. He remembered First mentioning his conflict with the Prime, and he was not surprised it got this far. But why would that make Sentinel Prime his owner? Wouldn’t it make more sense for a slave to avenge their master’s death, rather than fall property to the murderer?  
 _No,_ he thought. In a normal world a master would want it that way. In this one, the slave programming didn’t seem to care what the master wanted.  
So, let’s say, this Sentinel believes himself to be Megatron’s rightful owner. He would need to play along if he was to get free of this halter, to find the others, to lead them back to the mines and possibly to gather new Decepticons under his care.  
„As you wish, master” he said, bowing down his head as much as he could.  
„Re-imprinting has not yet occured” the dull white slave announced.  
„What?!” Sentinel spinned around and hit him in the face without thinking. „How do you mean there was no re-imprinting?”  
„His slave coding is active, but there had been no alteration in it for a likely fifty-five vorns” the white one replied cautiously, hoping his sumbission would save him from his master’s rage. „His conscious mind registered the owner’s death, but there’s no change on the subconscious level.”  
„Primon sent him away with some silly excuse so he couldn’t see him actually snuffled out” Impactor mentioned. „Tricky.”  
„It wouldn’t be that easy to get around the coding.”  
Megatron kept control of his facial plating, sobbing secretly on the inside. And how did Impactor have the face to talk about First just like that?  
The Autobot leader leant closer to Megatron, examining him from a discomforting proximity. Megatron could even feel the traces of dark energon on him.  
„So you cannot be broken, right? We will have to destroy you. Is that what your master wanted?”  
Megatron felt no obligation to answer.  
„May I have a suggestion, sir?” Impactor grinned. They left the room, and Sentinel’s evil laughter could soon be heard from the distance. Megatron was left alone with the white mech.  
It took him a while to gather his thoughts. He felt so bad for this mech. He was punched in the face for no other reason than pointing out truth that his master was blind to see, then he was scraping for leniency. And it seemed to be usual practice for them. Megatron reminded himself never to imprint on either Sentinel Prime or his followers. Especially not on Impactor.  
„It is not your choice” the melodic voice replied.  
 __Are you reading this transmitter’s frequency or are you a telepath on your own?  
The thought transmitter should have been available to no other but First.  
„Both” the mech answered.  
Megatron didn’t want to ask about how he could withstand the constant sensation of obvious hatred and undeserved spurn of his owner. He was not used to even seeing such behavior. The white didn’t even dare to look his master in the optics! He decided to ask about the imprinting instead.  
„How do you mean it’s not my choice? When First bought me he told me to hold the imprinting, it was orns before it actually happened.”  
„You were fresh from the production line” the mech explained. „A mature slave could not withold his need for an owner for longer than few joors, or an orn, at best. And it can only be imprinted on your rightful owner.”  
At least that was an explanation of what these Autobots were expecting him to do.  
„And is it true that ownership automatically falls to the killer?” he asked.  
„Unless there’s an appointed heir” the white mech replied.  
„Does Sentinel Prime have an appointed heir? For I have many reasons to kill him as soon as I can.”  
The mech gave Megatron a sad look.  
„You might have reasons but once your slave coding finally imprints it would no longer matter. Until that, you will be left in these restraints.”  
Megatron frowned. It would take a long time.  
„You avoided my question. Did you do it on purpose?”  
„A slave should not even think about an existence without his Master. I don’t have information of a possible heir. Do you really intend to kill him?” he asked, despite the fact that he could read it in Megatron’s processors.  
„Do you need to warn him, have I said so?”  
„Negative. I’m under no compulsion to warn him, even if your threats were to be taken at face value.”  
„Good. And I want you to abstain from imprinting on me until the time and place are right.”  
He sounded so serious. So naive.  
„It is the master who chooses the time and place, even if the slave is offlined by the need meanwhile” the dull white mech explained. He didn’t want to tell the mechling how little chance he had.  
\- - - - - - - - - - - -  
He was only released at the entrance of a gladiatorial arena, with no other way out but past five odd-looking drones waiting for his entry. He could hear the crowd of Autobots above his head, cheering for his death. Execution maybe. He had never used his battle programming before. His weapons were alien to him.  
He held his head up as he marched into the Pit. He was given time to look around, so that the Autobots could see him in one piece for the last time. He caught glimpse of Impactor, sitting in a comfortable sprawl literally at the feet of Sentinel Prime. There was a femme with them, pink and white with charmingly red optics and tender face, and a pair of antennae on her head that made her resemble a petro-bunny. He had to turn around or else he would have spent the last few moments of his life staring at the gorgeous damsel.  
There was a line of stocks on the opposite side of the galleries. Some of his own co-workers were there, forced to witness his execution. He turned back to the femme, detached the twin swords that were pegged at his hips, and gave her a salute.  
His enemies laughed at this, thinking it was a mock for them. But she! She understood it was meant for her.  
The five gladiator drones throbbed to life.  
Megatron took a running jump, aimed for the top of the nearest pit drone, stabbed a sword in its centre, sliced metal and splattered fuel. The weapon made a swift turn as he pulled it out from the wreck, the edges were delusively immaculate. He had no time to muse. With one long step he landed in front of the second drone, and split it in half with ease. The third drone took a little longer to finish – he no longer had the element of surprise, only a pair of twin swords against a massive robot with a chainsaw and a jackhammer for hands. He disarmed the drone with a parallel strike of both blades, but before he could finished it off he had to spin around and block the attack of the fourth.  
He saw the lifeless optical sensors of the phthalo blue machine, the set of rotary knives where a spark would have been in a living Cybertronian. It was larger than him, it stood on four firm legs, and it was preparing for a second attempt on a strike. Megatron finished it off at the same time as he finished the other.  
The fifth drone must have been programmed to stand by and stall for time until reenforcement arrived. Possibly, to keep the audience entertained. Possibly, to prevent the fighter finding a way to escape. Whatever its creator’s intention was, Megatron decided its interests contradicted his own, so he engaged the machine before it could have backed away. He chopped off the drone’s head with the move of his right hand while cutting it in half with the left.  
He knew this was no victory. He had been agile and unwounded. That was all.  
He watched as another eight drones walked in the arena, and he attacked again before they could analyse his structure and plot an attack. These all looked alike (at least, as much as he could tell), they must had been one line or model, and he soon lost count. As soon as he disabled one, two other drones showed up in its place. He had been a tactician, trying to damage the drones but not offline them, so that the show organisers wouldn’t immediately send in another bunch. He was not in a hurry to die.  
He had to test his weapons. The swords’ edges kept changing with each strike, leading him to the realisation they were four-dimensional. The whole set of twin swords felt to be of elegant science, trapped innocence and the quintessential balance of changing. He was wielding a pair of tessaractal swords.  
He severed the main cables of a drone, then tore through the wiring of the next one. He tried to recollect what he had in his mind about tessaractal weaponry. Or any four-dimensional instruments, for that matter. He needed to know what he was using.  
On the Autobot side, this was nothing but a show of power and dominance. The young slave could have been killed in some fast and possibly less humilating way, instead of being turned into some well-programmed entertainment device that made civilian Autobots scream and shout with joy. The more he was fighting back, the more they demanded to witness his fall.  
He chopped up three of the drones before even looking around in the pit.  
He knew there was no turning back. Before the fight, he would have agreed to pleasing the audience, in exchange for the freedom of his co-workers. But now he was well beyond that point. He was a peaceful robot, but he’d be damned if he would even consider an offer like that!  
Another fighter, this time a metallic monstrosity was released into the pit. It moved more like a dark mass, mauve cyberoglyphs over deep camouflage-green paintjob. It looked like anything but a peaceful spacebridge builder. Megatron offlined a drone that came too close, so that he gained an astrosecond to re-arrange his accessories. He released the spine blades attached to his arms and shin.  
Even though he couldn’t catch the enemy unprepared, it still seemed to be somewhat confused. Megatron had blades all over his limbs. The dark one must have prepared himself for the tessaractal swords, not for this new set of weapons. The spine blades literally peeled off his armor in some places. Megatron had nothing but a few dents.  
The crowd’s loud excitement seemed to give the enemy courage. Megatron remembered that they were the real enemy, the ones the green mech represented. Keeping the fight in the arena wouldn’t help. He had to get out of the Pit.  
He gained some space around him with a spin of the blades and a roundhouse kick, and applied the Cutter Beam he had also been given. Then he only stared for a few precious astroseconds as the electric stike drained all energon from his head and his trunk. He immediately decided he hated this weapon. It was so primitive, so underdeveloped.  
The crowd cheered, nevertheless. They didn’t even seem to care who was winning, as long as the loser lost his armor and possibly his face. The Cutter Beam was perfect for them. As a field weapon, Megatron never used it again. This toy would never kill Impactor or the Prime.  
The green monstrosity gathered himself up from the ground and again prepared for battle. Megatron wished he had stayed on the ground just a few nanokliks longer, so that he could have checked on the wall that was the real target of the Cutter Beam. And maybe he would have had more time to refill his body with energon. At least, the green robot seemed to be in just as bad condition, at least for now.  
A drone behind his back, however, did not suffer the same energy loss. It had been lying under the wreck of another drone of his kind, waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack again. And its time was now. Megatron would have been halved vertically, had he not heard the upper drone’s clatter. As he was busy with the re-activated drone, the bigger robot rose to face him again. Megatron could even see a tiny FIBRIR text written on its katana.  
His battle programming was guiding him without any thinking. He could have stopped it, had he wished to die at the green robot’s hands. He spun his tessaractal swords around and cut those hands off. He kicked a drone with his bladed leg. And, oddly enough, he was thinking of First all the while.  
First had installed this fight protocol in him. He knew it would be useful. Poor First. Looking back, their master-slave connection had simply been perfect, with First giving the orders and Megatron carrying them out. There was no need to even mention their positions as owner and property, it was so obvious, so unquestionable. Megatron had never had to submit to First, and First had never harmed him in any way.  
He really came to value these shards of his past while standing in the middle of a gladiatorial pit, entertaining his owner’s murderers, facing the energon flail his opponent pulled out of what remained of his right wrist. He couldn’t let rage take over him. He needed calm composure, not heat of hatred running havoc in his systems. He had to let the battle programming guide him.  
He sliced a drone before even realising it wasn’t of the batch that he saw in the arena earlier. It must have been released to the fight without him noticing! _Fraggit._ He had no time to watch that.  
However, he had the capacity to process Impactor’s voice as he neared the ringside seats.  
„Don’t give him training drones! Sentinel, please send in something that would actually kill him!”  
Was it fear in Impactor’s voice? Megatron ran a quick self-diagnostic. He had a few dents already, but nothing more. Maybe the traitor had reason to be afraid of him.  
Two menacing-looking Autobots rolled in at the other side of the arena, one red, and one green. When they transformed, Megatron could see their asymmetric structure, cannonball-like shape, their horrible teeth.... large, asymmetric teeth, the green even had the Autobot insignia carved in the largest incisor.  
Megatron panicked at the sight. His whole arsenal felt like toys compared to these beasts. He had to get away before the twins could get to him! He just had to. He had to get out. But as he looked up, he caught sight of the dull white robot to whom he promised to kill Sentinel Prime. Another time, maybe?  
No. If he ran, there wouldn’t be another time. And Sentinel’s death would mean the freedom of the white mech.  
He made a quick scan of the walls of the arena, the security wiring and the weight distribution, searching for the weakest point in the area. The twins were coming after him, he had no time to hesitate. He grabbed the bulky opponent and threw him into the coloumn of his choice.  
The dark one screamed in surprise as Megatron’s hands gripped his hips and then something bumped against his back. The silvery warrior was technically using him as a ladder to climb up to the seats.  
The pink and white femme elegantly offlined from the shock. Megatron caught her before she collapsed, and held her even tighter when Impactor hissed for him to let her go. Suddenly, he realised, he had one more robot to fight for.  
He brandished the sword in his right hand while he was holding the bunny-like femme in his left.  
„I won’t say I don’t have business with you, Impactor. I do. But now I’ve come for Sentinel Prime, who claims to have been the murderer of our Master. Step out of my way.”  
He could already see Sentinel Prime preparing for battle. His arms folded into cannons, rage turned his face beast-like and deformed. He might have scared a sparkling to death with this look.  
Megatron also realised the mech standing between them was not at all unarmed. The harpoon blade he had for a right hand might have been a clumsy tool for a miner, but it was quite suitable for fighting. Megatron had lost the advantage of surprise, and he was carrying the damsel in his other arm. But before he could have left the femme somewhere safe (was there such thing on this Primus-forsaken surface?) she came back online, screamed again, and held on to his neck like grim death. Despite this, Megatron managed to push Impactor into Sentinel and Sentinel into the upper part of the same coloumn he already identified as the weakest part of the architecture. Lady Luck must have been on his side.  
He was able to jump back. Even Impactor was, although a falling piece of the ceiling above their heads hit his shoulder and an even larger piece barely missed him. Sentinel Prime, however, had nowhere to run as the ceiling came down on him.  
He watched Impactor backing away from the site, and he could hear Autotroopers coming in his direction. The time has come.  
He leant down to the red and black robot half buried in front of him. Those blue optics were staring at him with a confident look in them, as he muttered „You cannot kill your own master”.  
„But you could kill mine?”  
Megatron racked the femme off himself. He came with the sole purpose to kill this mech, but now he started to hesitate. Sparks were gifts from Primus, all of them. It couldn’t be right to extinguish one. Had the fallen robot asked for mercy, he would have granted it. But Sentinel Prime remained silent.  
Trying not to cause more pain than what was necessary, Megatron opened his chest panel and put his hands around the Autobot’s blue spark. Its friendly warmth filled him with hope and gratitude.  
 __Sparks are from Primus. They cannot be evil, only the corrupted body in which the spark is trapped.  
With one swift pull, he removed the glowing spark from Sentinel Prime’s crashed frame. He turned around, making sure he could be seen. The spark in his hands started to glow intensely, until it regained its freedom in perfect light. Sentinel’s empty body collapsed behind his back.  
„Who are you?” the pink and white femme asked. She looked incredibly charming and exotic.  
She got her answer, but not in the way she least suspected. A wonderful spot of shiny gold flew across the arena, taking on the fire from all those Autotroopers who intended to kill Megatron.  
„Ratbat, what are you doing here?”  
„I thought you’d need the datapad now!”  
Giving the flying creature a closer look, Megatron could see Ratbat was carrying something in his tiny hind legs.  
„I told you to guard it with your life!” the Decepticon hissed. Empties.  
„Don’t worry, I have covered it in electrum, no harm will come to it!”  
The shots ricocheted from the golden-shining bat as he flew through the building, not stopping until he reached the commentator box and plugged the datapad in to the projector. Where formerly Megatron’s name and the number of his current functioning opponents had been, the device now showed the last will of Primon (or First), owner of the mines reaching from the Tagan Heights to the Sonic Canyons, one of the Original Thirteen, and the best mech Megatron ever knew.  
Of course, he knew what was in the will. He read it thoroughly before hearing the noise of the invading Autobots and placing the datapad in Ratbat’s care. But he never expected the Empty to bring it after him, from the mines of safety, to the deep pit of trouble and need.  
Despite what was said about him, Primon did not die without an appointed heir. He wanted his slaves to be free, that was written in the first line of the will, but his mines and anything lifeless in them fell to the mech he trusted most. He pointed out that Megatron should keep it running in its primary purpose (a refuge for all those who need a shelter, Megatron nodded silently), and the workers could stay there as free mechs and work it if that’s what they wanted.  
The will ended with the words „Goodbye, shattered world. I’ve got a liking for you.” Megatron remembered the times he heard First talk about gradually accepting his place in the exile, and he caught glimpse of Impactor slowly hanging his head. He so longed for his Master now. He would even forgive Impactor if he chose to come back to the mines.  
„Shoot the heir!”someone shouted in the background, pulling Megatron back to his tasks. His Master was dead, and it was his responsibility to get the workers safely back home.  
„Release them from the stocks!” he shouted at the dull white robot who was already on his way to assist his new master. Becoming the property of the former owner’s murderer still didn’t make sense for Megatron, but he had to admit he liked how seamlessly it worked.  
Only...  
Megatron turned to the femme by his side.  
„What’s your designation?”  
„Cy-Clone” the petro-bunny-like damsel replied. She looked as exotic as if she wasn’t from this planet.  
„You belonged to Sentinel, right?” Although there was no insignia on her. She was no slave. However, she nodded.  
„Watch my back” Megatron told her in a soft firm voice. It was time he dealt with the Autotroopers coming his way. „We will need to get to the other workers.” He pointed down. But how? The two extraordinary menacing Autobots were still in the arena. Was there any other way out?  
„No! Tell Soundwave to bring them to the back doors. It’s much less guarded. We can meet them on our way.”  
And he thought the femme was impressive for her appearance?  
„Good.”  
He was about to shout the order to the robot whose name was, quite matchingly, Soundwave. But then he remembered it wouldn’t make much sense to cry the plan out loud, especially not in the turmoil he and Ratbat caused. Soundwave was a telepath. He would know what to do.  
He fought his way to the main corridor, Cy-Clone guiding him, and warning whenever he had to turn around. Most Autobots had been discouraged by the fight he already put up, but not the Autotroopers. Especially not their leader.  
He identified the Autobot as Alpha Trion. First marked him as a „lick-spittle liar” in a note. There was so much information First loaded up to Megatron’s head, and they all started to make sense now that First was gone.  
One of these notes also stated that swords longer than his own needed to be avoided. Alpha Trion was holding a sword not even his troopers dared to approach.  
„I don’t think we should engage” he muttered.  
Cy-Clone didn’t think twice. „Then we will need to take the window! Come!”  
By this, it turned out, she meant jumping from the sixteenth level. Megatron riveted to the windowsill.  
„You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”  
„What? Are you, my hero, afraid of heights?”  
„I’m a miner! I’m not used to....” he was interrupted by shooting. It was time for them to be elsewhere.  
„Oh.... Maybe, then....” Cy-Clone mused.  
„Too late. It can’t be worse than falling in a verticular shaft.”  
It was worse, but they survived it nevertheless.  
\- - - - - - - -  
Soundwave found them by reading their minds and locating the old statue Cy-Clone landed on. The dull white mech was driving a transport drone, with the mine workers safe inside. Ratbat was hanging from the ceiling, cuddling the datapad with his two wings wrapped around himself. He looked like a golden raindrop, only, he was a bit larger than that.  
„And who are you?” he stared at a one-eyed robot. He must have been working with confidential data, for his yellowish paint made him easy to find and shoot when he got away. The Autobots would be upset to find he left.  
„Shockwave and I were bought at the same time” Soundwave explained. „I told him to stay behind but the slave coding demands he stayed with you sir.”  
„Until you order otherwise” Shockwave added.  
It was tempting. It was tempting to tell Shockwave to get out, to go back to the Autobots so that he would not attract fire on them and would be able to work as a spy. It was tempting to make a use of the situation at the expence of a mech he barely knew. But it was not nearly as tempting to defy First’s will and deny the mech the shelter. Shockwave looked like someone longing for company and in great need of a few kind words. He could live without it, yes, just as Megatron could have lived without the mines.  
He was about to say something kind and compassionate, but „Take cover!” seemed to fit the situation better. _Soundwave, they’re getting closer!_  
„I am trying to lose them my lord” Soundwave replied.  
„Go that way!” Cy-Clone pointed at a shadowy backstreet.  
„Are you sure?”  
„Yes, Sentinel never came in this direction, he must have had some reason for that! Right?”  
„Wrong!”  
„Do we have any other options?” Megatron asked. He knew at an instant he disliked this place called Kaon. „Primus’s heel” as First labeled it, but Megatron was unsure of what it meant. Alpha Trion and his troops were getting closer to the escapees. Megatron noted that the handless green gladiator was with them, trying hard to keep up with the group, the energon flail still ready for a fight. Hadn’t this fool gotten enough damage already?  
The alley they took was full of rusting metal, most of which had belonged to living Cybertronians once. They must have been discarded gladiators, Megatron realised. And one thing he remembered from his fights earlier today was that gladiators could not be simply walked on or around. He didn’t want to test which weapons of each robot were still functional.  
„There’s a hole” he pointed. „It’s large enough to accomodate us for now.”  
„Where?” asked Cy-Clone.  
„North!”  
„We’re in Kaon! Everything is North from here!” Shockwave pointed out. „Logic!”  
„Forgive him, master, he’s just too logical. He won’t oppose you after the imprinting.”  
Imprinting. They would have to live long enough for that.  
They fell into the ditch by the roadside. It didn’t seem like they would make it.  
The Autobots, however, didn’t notice them disappearing. There was a patrol also looking for the escapees at the other corner, and Alpha Trion sent his forces after them, clearly mistaking the patrol for the target. The attacked Autobots didn’t hesitate to fire back, although they wondered how the Decepticons found firearms. Megatron marched his team in the ditch, looking up sometimes, unable to understand why the Autobots offlined each other so madly. When they reached the end of the ditch, there were no other functioning Autobots besides the green one. And finally, he realised he was severly outnumbered. His fear became visible.  
„I want your energon flail” Megatron stated. The monstrosity looked around, but could not see any Autobot who could help him out. Was he a coward, deep inside?  
Megatron was given the energon flail.  
„Thank you, bulky.”  
With that, the escapees hurried away, now looking for another vehicle that would take them at least to the Sonic Canyons.  
\- - - - - - - - -  
Megatron told the group to switch off their audio sensors, just like Primon told him so many vorns ago. Now it was Soundwave’s turn to object, but he also apologized immediately, humbly admitting that he needed the imprinting very much.  
„Without that I cannot be yours with my whole self” he explained. Normally, imprinting a slave was meant to be their utter humiliation, but now he was almost begging for it.  
„Hold out for just a little longer” Megatron asked him.”We’re almost there. Shut down your audio sensors.”  
„As you wish my lord.”  
When they finally reached the canyons, a bitter surprise was waiting for them. There was no way to cross it, the metal was falling to pieces under their feet. One of the workers gave Megatron a doubtful look. Was this why he brought them here?  
But Megatron didn’t care. Not here, not now. He was at Primus’s most important sensor, at the point from where many thoughts should originate. Before he would imprint on Soundwave and Shockwave, he had more important work to do.  
Most important.  
The reason why Primon had bought him, in the first place.  
 __I beg your attention, magnificient source of life. I am Megatron, and I promise you to be the Leader of the Decepticons from now on. With your help, I will bring balance to this out-of-place world, I will shatter the realm of the Fallen. I know who I was named after, and I am willing to accept the burden now. Take me, claim me fully, Primus. I am yours, as I always was. I am ready to become who you want me to be. I am yours. I have known this, even if it took me some time to understand. I am asking for your attention, Primus, for myself and those who will become my troops. Look at me, Primus. Look at us. We are ready to be claimed.  
Autobots were gaining on them, grown wild by the opportunity. The Decepticons seemed to have cornered themselves right in front of them! They were easy prey, even if the sounds were more than disturbing.  
Then, to their surprise, the targets seemed to finish the job for themselves. They walked straight off the cliff and fell into the canyon, one after the other. Some hesitated, especially the femme, but they all made that final step.  
They couldn’t communicate in the loud noise, even the radio frequencies were useless. One of the Autobots still decided to go after them, the harpoon in the place of his right hand shining orange of the nearby lights.  
Impactor was the only one to walk to the canyon edge. He wanted to make sure the Decepticons didn’t fake their jumping.  
As a miner, he had seen dwellers millions of times. But never on the surface, and never attacking this aggressively, in these numbers. He was facing about a battalion of them! All other Autobots ran. He knew it was wiser to stay, and muse on why he was still sure that Megatron and his team made an escape. But the sound was still unbearable for him, so he could not pry for long.  
Even if he did, he would have never guessed that the escapees were riding Primus’s thoughts, with Megatron in the lead, to where Primus believed they would be safe. Megatron was not at all surprised to find they were going in the direction of the caved-in mines, and the blind-ending tunnel First told him to drill just a few orns before his death. This was the safest place for them. This was meant to be their headquarters.  
Megatron imprinted on Shockwave and Soundwave on their way to their home. Vorns ago, First imprinted on Megatron in the place where Primus’s presence was most senseable. Riding dwellers, Primus’s thoughts, was an even stronger sensation. Megatron smiled, acknowledging Soundwave’s nod. This was the answer for the white robot’s dilemma. Megatron wouldn’t re-imprint on anybot after First’s death, simply because First wasn’t his real master. He deeply respected the old robot, and kept refering to him as Master, but according to his subconscious, he had never belonged to him. He was the property of no other but the one for whom First bought and trained him. He couldn’t imprint on another robot since his master was very much alive. He was the source of light and life, to be exact.  
With his help, the newcomers imprinted on Primus too, with Megatron being given the honor to mediate.


	6. Present

There were almost no lights in the cave, only the soft blue of energon crystals in the wall and a red Autobot recharging on a comfortable berth. Megatron was standing over him, studying the red Autobot insignia as if he’d never seen anything like that before. Memories rushed through his processors, comparing the past and the present, wondering what he had really done and what would have happened without him. _Who would have saved Cliffjumper if he hadn’t been there to jump between him and the Prime?_ Oh, no, silly question. Whoever arranged Cliff’s arrival had also made sure Megatron was there to rescue him. It was an honor for him, nothing to complain about.  
He wasn’t even surprised when the thought transmitter picked up the receiving signal. They were in First’s mines, he made them to remain so. Of course Primon would show up from time to time.  
„You’ve been very brave, Megatron. You make me so proud.”  
„Master, I miss you.”  
First walked over, and sat by the side of the berth right next to the Autobot. Those blue optics, framed by the dark mask-like pattern, examined Megatron and his newest protégé.  
„Is it still that hard of a burden?”  
Megatron nodded.  
„I thought I was getting used to it.”  
First reached out for him, gently stroking the barrel on his back.  
„This is never going to get easy, but you’re handling it amazingly well.”  
„Thanks.”  
There were a few kliks spent in comfortable silence, then Megatron finally whispered „I wish I could meet the Prime he was talking about. A good Prime! I cannot even imagine that.”  
First frowned.  
„That Prime has his own universe to care about, just like you have this. If you two were to meet, at least one of your universes would be left unguarded. Not to mention the possibility of your evil counterparts meeting. You cannot want that.”  
Megatron nodded. Yes, he understood.  
„Master.... there’s something I need to ask. What happened to my namesake?” He had been to the Sonic Canyons, but he still couldn’t understand much of the information flowing from the cosmos. And lately he couldn’t go as often as he wanted to. „I know that he dropped his flames, but it’s hard to get more about him.”  
First’s smile was happy and proud, the once usual sadness was missing from it.  
„He redeemed himself, indeed. He joined your local counterpart in a universe where their aim was to save Cybertron. Your namesake was willing to get himself killed to save Primus. Fascinating, isn’t it?”  
Megatron smiled. He knew this would happen sometime.


	7. Footnotes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, Down a Notch is slash fic. This here, is not. Does that count as an opposite? Anyway. Thank you for the inspiration, LadyDragon2!  
> Here’s the list of intended TF references. You might still find something I left out.

**Sparked slaves are sold at a higher price:  
** Vector Sigma is exactly as we’ve seen him in the cartoon G1 episode.  
Autobots ruling Cybertron and suppressing Decepticons: this is the opposite of the cartoon version of the story, when ’Bots and ’Cons started as equals. At the same time, it’s much like the G1 comics.  
Decepticons carrying a slave programming is a running (rolling) meme and taken almost verbatim from the insirating fanfic. The only difference is the process of imprinting, I added a slight twist to that. It was essential for the story.  
Eight Constructicons: as seen in the third season of the G1 cartoon. There are guesses and explanations of why eight and not just six, I don’t want to go in the details *cough*  
Autobots being pointlessly evil: they are the evil faction in the Shattered Glass, that’s why. But note the sparkling’s naivety :)  
Blurr looks and talks much like his G1 (or Animated) self. I could have written him as a snail, but he wouldn’t have been recognisable then. His behavior is quite the opposite of those mentioned above.  
The dealer with purple optics: make a guess. In Animated, he used to be an Autobot before he became a freelance trader.  
What is Impactor doing so close to the surface if he is a miner originally? This time, I asked. No real answer, though. Note that he’s even less peaceful than his G1 self, but otherwise he’s quite similar to him. I have reasons for that.  
Just like some colors on their paint, I left the optic colors intact. Autobot optics are mostly blue, Decepticon optics are read. If this was a comic, I might have tried to keep them recognisable despite swapping the optic color, but alas, I cannot draw. In proze, I decided keeping the characters recognizable was more important than changing optics. Official Shattered Glass did that swap. This is not official SG. (Maybe in this ’verse, red optics mean being peaceful and blue means being destructive. )  
Runamuck is white, Runabout is black. Aka RIWRIB. Blagh, that doesn’t make some sense nearly as much as FIRRIB/FIBRIR. I considered swapping their colors but it would have made their introduction a lot more confusing. I was glad to learn which one was which once. Just like with Blurr, the real difference is not the way they look, but the way they behave. Aren’t they both (trying to be) polite? Also, „thin knees”. This could either be the opposite of the G1 Battlechargers, or be so because they don’t have their Earth-car altmode.  
Much more than meets the eye: In case you forgot, it’s a Transformers story. If it was even included in Bayverse (which is the ULTIMATE opposite of TF for me) I could not leave this out.  
Swindle giving Imp gratis: that may either be because that’s not what you expect Swindle to do, or because he truly wanted to get rid of Impactor. Your choice.

**  
**

Silvery shine  
First’s outlook is based off his sole appearance in G1. He was seen when Rodimus was in the Matrix. For further information, please search Tfwiki dot net.  
Blurr seems a little claustrophobiac. I’m not surprised after what happened to him in TFA.  
„So-sparked do-gooder” was taken verbatim from Down a Notch.  
Meet Train. As a train. Ha-ha! I hoped not to spoil his true identity this early in the story. He is red and gray instead of his original purple and gray, so he’s still colored according to his faction’s colors.  
Note how much the sparkling looks up to his new owner. „I belong to NOBODY!”  
First got this nickname after his Down a Notch counterpart who was constantly referred to as „the first owner”. Also, it’s how his real name can be translated to English. Note that he’s a multiversal singularity, therefore, he cannot have a Notch counterpart. Unless Notch was AU. Well, Notch IS AU. Everything is justified! :)  
Cybertron’s topology is as close to the official as I could make it. Primus is present in all universes at the same time, so the cities are how they are shown in other continuities (different additions to G1, mostly)  
Darkmount being a Decepticon fortress in historical times: true. Straxus’s poetry, on the other hand, is borrowed from official SG. And Straxus being published as „Darkmount”? See the toystore shelves for proof. HasTak (the abbreviation stands for Hasbro and Takara together) lost the copyright to sell anything as „Straxus”, and Darkmount was pretty close to that.  
Walky not questioning a decision: that’s the opposite of Real Life Walky, drawer of the Shortpacked comic line. Walky had left his handprint on the Shattered Glass (Ravage) so I decided he deserved an own SG self.  
„Not on my watch”. Nothing special in English, it’s a quote from the RotF movie. It’s more like an in-joke for the Hungarian fans, as a similar line of the official movie prequel comic was translated as something like „Don’t [step on] my wristwatch”. Which sooo didn’t make sense in the context.  
Train being transformed: the opposite of TFs usually transforming on their own. Note that this scene takes place when Autobots can transform but most Decepticons cannot.  
The sparkling seems to be quite happy with his slave status. „I belong to nobody!”  
Dwellers in G1 are used in the plot as vampire-like horror factors. I somewhat changed that. „Slightly”. On the other hand, DotM Shockwave had a pet called Driller. That might be because Cybertron was otherwise uninhabitable and the dweller was the last memento of the rich Cybertronian wildlife.  
Sonic Canyons and Rust Sea belong to Cybertron’s topology since G1. The tunnel under the Rust Sea was my idea, but there had to be something under that large rusty pool. Especially if there were mines around the area.  
Empties are the lowliest of Cybertronians. Normally.  
Metallic Bay: if there was a city in G1 named after Simon Furman, in SG, there had to be something named after.... no offense.  
First outdating some of the oldest Cybertronian neutrals by mere 4-5 vorns ( 300-400 years) suggests that he is very old indeed. You may start guessing that he’s one of the Original Thirteen Transformers.  
First gaining his power and life force from Primus directly was inspired by the Grail knights.  
„Couldn’t, wouldn’t”. Furmanism.

**  
**

Burden  
Reference to „The burden hardest to bear” which is an episode of the third season of G1 and the titular burden is leadership and the Matrix.  
The sonic canyons are canon! Which is a good thing. Primus might be asleep, but he can hear you. The Sonic Canyon functions like a meatus, amplifying the incoming sounds.  
Megatron was named after the member of the Original Thirteen who was also the „godfather” of Megatron in the G1 comics. And in the Aligned continuity. (Aligned is the mishmash made of War for Cybertron, Fall of Cybertron, Exodus, Exiles, and Transformers Prime.) Note that First introduced the sparkling to Primus and discussed something with him before giving that name – and putting the burden that came with it on the young slave’s shoulders. Also, with the imprinting, he hoped that this Megatron won’t turn away from Primus like his namesake.  
I suggest you read more about Megatronus Prime on TF Wiki.  
„I belong to nobody!”  
„Jealous?” Tiny reference to Notch, where an epic quarrel started with this.  
Impactor using his hand harpoon when he’s working as a miner. Tell me if it makes sense to you, well, it’s G1....  
SG Megatron taking the edge of the quarrel with an innocent question. He has some negotiating talent, doesn’t he?  
There are a master and a slave, and in Shattered Glass, the topic is the freedom of the master. First is an adorable character to write.  
In Notch, Megatron’s first owner „was killed in a cave-in through no one else's design.”  
„No matter the cost.” See „more than meets the eye”.  
„How does it feel to be mortal?” Primon, being the first Prime ever, might have something to do with dying and possibly being brought back later. Also, there’s a song on the 2007 movie’s soundtrack „How it feels like to be a ghost”. It should have had more to do with Starscream.  
Megatron being able to yell at his master might foreshadow that his master might not be his real master.....  
Hastak ramp: the private area of the only canon character here. He stores a lot of canon data there.  
„I’ve been waiting for you to mature to this point” the following scene was very much the shattering of a scene in Notch that starts with the same line.  
What kind of data was there in the uploads? Well. ALL that you can think of. Megatron still got it better than Orion Pax who was shot dead and then regained consciousness only to find the whole Matrix within him.

**  
**

Past  
SG Ravage is possibly the only official SG character to say hello here. He is SG Ravage, without any further ado.  
Megatron has a cute little scene with the Matrix. Usually he tends to seek it for his own purposes. This time the Matrix has him....  
„Shattered mirror” and „fractured glass” were the mirror universe(s) of some other fandoms, as far as I know. Shattered mirror was Star Trek maybe?  
Miner and mine owner studying geophysics of the mine. And Primus.  
„Megatron could see his own functional structures for the first time in his life” used to be „Megatron hearing his own screams for the first time in his life” in Notch.  
Megatron’s thoughts materialize just like you have seen in the G1 episode „Microbots”. The similarity to dwellers is my discovery....  
If you still have no idea who Megatronus Prime is, please use the TF Wiki. Now.  
First’s backstory is a sad backstory. But the only explanation I could come up with after reading that the Matrix forgot about him. Yes. Simon Furman himself stated that. The Matrix was torn out from Primon’s chest rather violently, in a pseudocanon story he wrote. After that, there was no trace of the old mech anywhere.  
Frenzy and Rumple are red and blue. As for which one is which......

**  
**

The Pit  
Autobots came unprovoked. Megatron didn’t even consider fighting back until it was too late. See Megatron Origin Issue 1 for more.  
Also, someone realising it’s unwise to start shooting in an energon mine. Not very typical of something based off EXPLOSIONS. But if it can explode, it will explode. Without the electrum in the walls, it could have been, would have been even worse.  
Longarm was a femme. TFA Shockwave might feel insulted right now.  
Megatron Origin has some spectacular prison breaks. Not that Megs should be ashamed for not being able to break out from the variable voltage harness, though. He tried.  
Wasp was left behind by the Autobots. He was found later.  
SG Soundwave is seen in his official SG colors, but with G1 design.  
Sentinel was based off his Bayverse self. In Bayverse, however, (unlike many other robots) he had a very humanoid face. Here he has the generic Bayformer face.  
Properties of the slave coding were mostly borrowed from other fanfics. I only changed the imprinting, slightly.  
Megatron’s slave coding is wreaking havoc as it doesn’t function as it would be logical and expected. Or maybe it is acting the way it should.  
AND THERE GOES OUR FAVOURITE GLADIATOR. Not quite on his own will, though.  
Bunny ears are trademark of Cyclonus. Or Playboy. Maybe both.  
Tessaractal swords belong to Alternity Megatron toy figure.  
The green mech over there is Bulkhead. Not so peaceful, is he?  
Spine blades: Cybertron series, Leader sized Megatron had them.  
Cutter Beam: property of RiD Megatron.  
FIBRIR: the battle cry for half the fandom. The other half will shout FIRRIB. Is Frenzy or Rumble red or blue?  
Skids and Mudflap are actually scary in the Shattered Glass.  
Megatron uses Bulkhead as a ladder. The sentence was remixed from Notch, and turned several times around.  
Primus-forsaken surface of.... Primus. That doesn’t sound good.  
Sentinel’s death is the opposite of that in Bayverse (he WOULD have been pardoned had he asked for it) and Megatron Origin (he died with Autobots watching, and his spark was torn out with as little damage as possible). The release of his spark was inspired by Vavyan Fable’s fantasy books Dreamchase and Fairydance.  
Ratbat is the Decepticon bat of leadership. He fits a miner more than a condor, don’t you think?  
The femme could not be named Cyclonus (well she could have been, like Solus who was also female, and Nova who was a male) so I named her Cy-Clone. Thus her godfather became Cy-Kill, who was a representative of a shameless TF copying toyline, aka, clone. So she became part gobot. Note that Megatron saves her, instead of killing him in the arena like he normally did.  
Alpha Trion is much like his SG self. TF Wiki calls him a „lick-spittle liar”.  
„You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” SG Megatron was killed by SG Cyclonus. That won’t be the case here, but Megs doesn’t yet know that.  
„He must have been working with confidential data, for his yellowish paint made him easy to find and shoot when he got away.” Any other explanation for a brightly coloured Shockwave would be.... illogical. His inability to change for more suitable colors is also an opposite to his old IDW self but this fic was written long before that.  
„It was tempting to tell Shockwave to get out, to go back to the Autobots so that he would not attract fire on them and would be able to work as a spy.” Hello, Animated.  
„just as Megatron could have lived without the mines.” For some reason, no Megatron has ever shown a trait of a miner past. TF:Prime Megs even got trapped in a cave-in in Rock Bottom.  
„Primus’s heel” is where Kaon is on the Cybertron toy.  
The large green mech with the flail is Bulkhead. Correction. Large green mech WITHOUT the flail.  
Soundwave needs to belong to some other mech. He had always belonged to Megatron, I had no spark to separate them in the name of shattering the glass.  
Megatron’s thought-spoken oath must not be over-commented. He swears to take the late Megatronus Prime’s position and burden. If Primon had a plan, this had to be it.

**  
**

Present  
G1 Cliffjumper arrived at the official SG in a similar way. This red Autobot here is Animated Cliffjumper. (Not to be mistaken with the reanimated one....)  
Primon was the first Prime. Of course he would not, could not stay dead forever.  
Megatronus Prime had truly dropped his trademark flames. In Revenge of the Fallen, he looked more like a fallen hero, not a condemned traitor. Since he is a multiversal singularity, Bayverse Fallen has to be the same guy as the one who’d been discussed before. Also, he’d been fighting side by side Bayverse Megatron in RotF, where they only wanted to refuel Cybertron aka Primus. Could they do less?

 

Don’t get me wrong, I like Bayverse too :)


End file.
